


The Caged Sun and the Hidden Dark

by MaidenM



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Betrayal, Captivity, Deception, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Imprisonment, M/M, Medical Torture, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Threats, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaidenM/pseuds/MaidenM
Summary: Two years after the War of Unification, another war ended. With their hidden enemies defeated, Ferdinand is finally able to spend his time with Hubert as lovers should. They arrange for a vacation together, and everything is finally as it should be.But as they say; if something seems too good to be true...
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 67
Kudos: 118





	1. A Perfect Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, please put on your tin-foil hats before getting comfortable because shit's going down!
> 
> **Note: This fic contains darker themes such as betrayal, captivity, torture and deception. Please curate your own fandom experience.**
> 
> This idea came to me at 4 am as all good ideas do and before I knew it I had an outline for nine chapters made and a lot of feelings about it. Please note that the tags are going to update as I go, and some of them are going to be important so please protect your own fandom experience! Do let me know if you think I'm missing a tag or two!
> 
> But for now, let's enjoy Ferdie and Hubie being lovey-dovey for a bit and pretend everything is going to be fine...

The sound of hooves upon the road less traveled mingled with the sounds of the forest as they rode. Rustling leaves whispered, stimulated by even the calmest of breezes, joining with the song of birds to create a susurrus that only a forest full of life could give. Their horses snorted occasionally as the sun filtering through the gaps in the trees, lending a lovely glow to their coats and Ferdinand was certain they were enjoying themselves as much as he was.

Yes indeed, Ferdinand found it difficult to place the last time in his memory that he was this happy.

“If you smile any wider your head will snap in half,” his travel companion chuckled with a smirk in his voice. Ferdinand laughed in return and looked over to where Hubert rode beside him.

“I am happy,” he replied, grinning even more. “I feel lighter than I have in weeks. Months even. I did not realize I needed this so much.”

“I am glad. You have done so much for the Empire, you deserve a break,” Hubert said.

Ferdinand looked him over, admiring the imposing figure he made upon his horse. They were dressed down, or as far down as they dared while still remaining protected as they traveled, and Hubert had chosen their path specifically because he wished for them to remain incognito as long as possible. Ferdinand had made a few lighthearted accusations of paranoia as they left the capital but Hubert assured him it was just to make sure no one would bother them during this rare chance for a holiday. They carried weapons with them of course, but Ferdinand was happy to know that the bow on Hubert’s side was made for hunting rather than murder. Not that Hubert was ever unarmed, but it was a detail that solidified the nature of their little excursion.

“You still have not told me where we are going,” Ferdinand laughed, “it feels almost like we are boys again, sneaking away from our parents for a secret adventure!”

“Adventure is the last thing I had in mind, dear Ferdinand.”

Ferdinand smiled, but couldn’t help but to find it strained for just a moment as he thought of how unlike himself Hubert had not lowered his guard even now. Neither Hubert nor Edelgard had told him what they had been doing since the end of the war, what secrets they were up to. He knew they went on covert missions at times, with Edelgard delegating her duties to Ferdinand himself during the times they were away for a longer time. He knew sometimes they came back with wounds that were at times worse than they had been during the war. He knew they kept secrets from him.

And he knew that just a few weeks ago they had returned claiming their mission was over. Aymr lay broken in Edelgard’s hands and she held a smile on her lips that spoke of a level of relief he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

He was joyful for them, but a part of him born from his youth still stirred whenever he was reminded of how for so long no one shared anything with him. Whether they kept him out of it from of a lack of trust or lack of faith in his abilities, he suspected it would take him a long time to get past the insecurities instilled in him by his father in his childhood, by Edelgard during his teens - however unintentional it was on her part - and by his father once more when he learned of his transgressions as an adult.

Shaking his head to dispel such depressing thoughts, he instead turned his mind to the joy of their shared holiday. A time for just him and Hubert, a reward bestowed upon them by their Emperor for their faithful duties to the empire. A chance for them and their affections for one another that they had not had time to explore in full since the end of the war. His skin tingled just from the memory of Hubert explicitly requesting that they would be allowed to take this time together, something Ferdinand had never thought he would do even with their developing relationship. Coming from Hubert, it was positively romantic. Ferdinand imagined they would spend their time indulging in the soft courtship of his boyhood fantasies, holding hands under the moonlight and sharing soft touches and softer poetry.

And if he also imagined the less soft and proper fantasies from his later years, well he had earned the right to do so, had he not?

They rode on in silence for a while. Ferdinand hummed a tune to himself, though he noted that once in a while Hubert joined him in the parts he recognized. They had travelled for about a day and a half, spending one night under the stars like they had during marches during the war but this time with unburdened minds and hearts. They hadn’t seen another soul in hours, and if he tried hard enough Ferdinand could almost imagine they were the only two people in the world.

“You are beautiful,” Hubert said suddenly, bringing all Ferdinand’s attention to him in a moment. “Looking at you like this, in the sunlight upon your steed with your face and hair glowing from joy and light, you truly look radiant.”

Ferdinand blushed and hid his smile behind his hand. “Where did that come from?” he asked, laughter bubbling in his chest as his cheeks burned. “What have I told you about sudden compliments?”

“Forgive me. I would write but it is a little bit difficult on horseback,” Hubert replied with a smirk, no doubt enjoying the look of Ferdinand’s flustered state. “I am happy as well, Ferdinand. Happy to have you here. Happy to know that you are mine.” With a few deft movements Hubert urged his horse closer and reached out to graze his fingers against a lock of Ferdinand’s hair. His finger twirled and Ferdinand wondered if it was his mane that twirled around Hubert’s digit of if it was his heart.

“Hubert please, if you keep this up I will faint and fall off Cordelia’s back,” he breathed, unconsciously leaning into the touch and almost losing his balance as his cheeks grew hotter still.

For a moment Hubert looked at him with a glint in his eyes, as if entertaining the notion of seeing if he could truly do such a thing. The look sent a teasing shiver up Ferdinand’s spine, making his hair stand at an end.

“Then perhaps we should make camp for today, so your fall will not be as great,” Hubert suggested, an almost playful look replacing the previous one. Ferdinand raised an eyebrow.

“Are we truly so far from our destination? Are we even close?”

“We are close,” Hubert nodded. “But I’d like one more night under the stars with you.”

With those words ringing in Ferdinand’s ears and warming him from the inside out they found a spot to make camp, giving the horses a chance to graze and drink from a nearby creek. Ferdinand made sure the horses were secure as Hubert took his bow and promised to not venture too far after a bit of fussing from his lover. The woods were calm, Hubert assured him, he would be back before he knew it.

Finding the forest not just calm but also bountiful, Ferdinand took the time to forage for firewood and food after he had set up their bedrolls. He didn’t have to go too far from their spot and by the time he returned to start a fire he had plenty of wood and a mug full of freshly picked berries as well as some nuts and mushrooms. The sky was growing dark as the fire came to life, with the darkening blue only being broken by a few sparse clouds tainted pink on the underside by the rays of the setting sun. He was retrieving a bottle of mulled wine from their pack when the crack of twigs and rustling leaves signaled Hubert’s return.

“Good hunt?” Ferdinand asked as Hubert came into view. The taller man smiled a crooked smile and held up his prize, two fat pheasants.

“And you?” he asked, wasting no time as he sat down and started to pluck the birds. Ferdinand nodded, handing over his haul.

“I trust you to know if these are safe to eat,” he chuckled. “If you cook for us I will care for the horses.”

“I was going to suggest the same,” Hubert smirked, “I still think Cordelia holds a grudge against me for becoming your new favourite.”

“She’s not jealous! She’s just a passionate soul!” Ferdinand defended his beloved mare before he went to work. The horses were given their food as well as a few treats while Ferdinand took the opportunity to give them a good reward after their hard work.

“It has been a long day, has it not Cordelia?” Ferdinand asked his trusty steed as Hubert finished plucking the pheasants. “Rest for now, I have no idea what Hubert has in store for us tomorrow. You know how secretive he can be.”

“I only keep secrets if they must be kept.”

“I was not talking to you,” Ferdinand laughed, smiling to himself as Cordelia nuzzled his hand in search for more treats. He took his time caring for the horses, making sure he was rewarding them suitably for their efforts while Hubert finished cooking their meal behind him. When he was finished the sky was dark with a few stars looking down on them and the nature around them had replaced the songs of daytime frolicking of woodland creatures with the sound of crickets and the occasional chirp of an evening bird. When the smell of roasted pheasant and mushrooms reached his nose Ferdinand felt his stomach growl in anticipation.

Wordlessly, Ferdinand walked over and sat down to nestle close to Hubert as the older man served up their dinner on two plates. He had used some of the berries to make a sauce, but saved the rest for a simple dessert. Two mugs of the mulled wine were poured, and they clinked them together before they began to eat. It was simple but delicious. They shared their dinner as well as a few touches and even a few kisses under the stars, and when their dinner was finished Hubert took the berries they still had left and they fed each other by hand as they relaxed against each other. Ferdinand couldn't think it was anything but perfect.

When the stars were finally out they both lay on their bedrolls, nestled close together and sharing their heat between one another. Ferdinand could feel Hubert’s eyes on him as his body relaxed from the day, feeling light in a way he couldn’t quite pin down.

“Ferdinand,” Hubert spoke after a while. “I need to thank you.”

“What for?”

“For everything. For staying by Lady Edelgard’s side. For staying by mine. For being loved not just by us but by the people as well.” Hubert’s eyes pinned him as he spoke, and Ferdinand preened under the attention.

“I could not possibly take all the credit, darling. You have been indispensable to both her Majesty and to me,” he murmured as he leaned over to plant a kiss on Hubert’s lips. He missed and landed on his cheek instead, bringing a chuckle from the other man.

“That is true. I have worked hard to reach my goals. But I do believe I wouldn’t have reached them so soon without you.”

“I’m sure you would’ve gotten there eventually,” Ferdinand slurred. He frowned, was he more tired than he thought he was? Hubert gave a breathy laugh.

“I would have,” he confirmed, his hand coming up to stroke Ferdinand’s cheek. He leaned in to claim the redhead’s lips in a kiss, one with more teeth than Ferdinand expected before he pulled away and smiled that crooked smile again. “But thanks to you, I have gotten further than I ever dreamed I would. Soon everything is going to be as it should.”

Ferdinand sat up, his face twisting as his head started to spin and something in his stomach sinking at the tone of Hubert’s voice for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “What do you mean?” he asked as the image of Hubert started to blur at the edges.

“You are priceless, Ferdinand,” Hubert spoke, an echo-like quality to his voice as it reached Ferdinand’s ears. “Edelgard wouldn’t be able to function without you, without us. The Empire would suffer without you and the people know it now.” Hubert’s hands stroked Ferdinand's cheeks as he blinked, the world not quite sitting still before him. “Of all the things I have put into place, I didn’t expect you to become such a perfect piece.”

Ferdinand struggled to keep his gaze steady now, Hubert’s words not quite registering in his ears. “Hubert,” he tried, “I feel strange…”

“Don’t worry, that’s just the drug I slipped into your drink taking effect,” Hubert said, his pleased smile bearing down on the redhead as Ferdinand felt himself lowered to the ground. “Rest for now, things are finally falling into place.”

And the last thing Ferdinand saw as he felt something covering his nose and mouth was the familiar green of Hubert’s eyes.


	2. A Captive Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting somewhere. Is your tinfoil hat on properly?

The first thing he was made aware of was a noise.

It was the strangest noise, constant in both pitch and volume. It was low, like the soft hum of a tenor but no singer nor animal could hold a tone so long and so stable. The sound was so constant Ferdinand found himself unsure if he had heard it for a few seconds or for hours at an end. His head was foggy, with only the humming noise keeping him company in the darkness. Once in a while it seemed to fade, but as it came back it never seemed to be because it stopped but rather because he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

He felt like he was split in two. One part tired and calm, drifting down a dark river with his limbs heavy and soft and his mind softer still. The air around him was cool, not cold enough to bother him but not warm enough to make him feel comfortable. The other part of him was as if locked behind a door, banging upon it in a desperate attempt to reach deaf ears.

His eyes snapped open with a start, pulling air into his lungs as if he had been drowning.

All at once his skin tingled, the shivering pinpricks similar to the feeling of escaping a battle against a demonic beast within an inch of your life. He gulped deep lungfuls of air, body shaking as his mind raced with neither direction nor awareness as he tried to find his bearings.

First things first, a voice much like Hubert’s spoke in his mind - a result of many lessons on how to function under pressure - assess the situation. Where are you?

He was in a cell. Or at least, he was in a small room that to his mind looked like a cell. He was in a bed, one not too uncomfortable but also not made for the discerning sleeper. He had been dressed down, only retaining his shirt and his pants with none of his tools, accessories or even his boots left. Around his wrists and ankles he found some sort of bracelets, thick and tight around his joints like a manacle with no chains. It was bright in the room, strangely bright as there were no torches or fires within the room. The walls were bare, but also strangely smooth. Not made of stone, and definitely not made of wood. As his eyes seemed to focus easier he could spot grooves and nails, similar to the ones he’d see on armor. 

The size of the room was not impressive, he noted as he sat up. It was about the size of his dorm at the academy, maybe a bit smaller. At the foot of the bed there was a partition, and against the opposite wall was a desk and a chair. They, like the walls of the room, seemed too smooth to be stone or wood but too precise to be metal. The corners were too sharp, the curves too smooth. No blacksmith could work with such precision. Beside the table there was a large window set in the wall.

“Hello?” he called as he swung his legs off the bed, his voice echoing horribly around him. “Hu--”

_ Hubert. _

A chill went through his body as his memories came back. The dizziness, the confusion, the look on Hubert’s face.

All at once the blood within him felt like ice.

He stood up from the bed, feeling the vertigo threatening to topple him for just a moment as he stumbled. With the image of Hubert - his dear Hubert, his secretly gentle Hubert - with his face twisted in a cruel smile still in his head he took a few uncertain steps to the other end of the room. Looking closer the widow appeared to be set in a door rather than into the wall as he had thought. There was no handle visible, but based on the small grooves in the wall he suspected there was a way to open it from the outside. The window had a few holes in it, presumably to allow for ventilation, and it gave him a good view of the outside though even as he peered closer he had some worries about what he might see.

On the other side he could see a room, even brighter than his cell but equally void of torches, with a table at the center. Around it were objects that looked like nothing he had ever seen, mostly rectangular shapes with blinking lights on them but also something above the table with a most bizarre look.

“Anyone?” he called out again. “Hubert?”

“He’s not here,” a raspy voice said not far from him, making Ferdinand start and turn towards the source of the voice. He hadn’t noticed, agitated and distracted as he was, but one wall was not like the others. Rather than the metal-like surface it was clear, like glass, allowing him to see into the next room. Like the window in the door it had holes within it to allow for air and sound to travel through. It appeared to be another cell, seemingly identical to his except that on the opposite side there was another clear wall allowing him to see even into the cell beyond that, with the pattern repeating itself a few times. Perhaps he had been placed in a corner room.

But the point of interest was not the design of the cells, but the occupant within it.

Silhouetted by the light, the figure sat on the floor with his back to his own bed. Whoever it was seemed thin and tired. Matted, greasy hair shielded his face from view as he stared at a spot on the floor in front of him, not even offering Ferdinand a glance. His stillness made him seem as if part of the sparse furniture in the room, almost making it difficult for Ferdinand to make him out properly.

“That guy brought you here a while ago, but he’s not here anymore. So stop screaming,” the figure said with a monotonous voice. “They don’t care for screamers.”

In the silence that followed Ferdinand could only hear the thumping of his own heart and the constant hum that still had not ceased.

“Hubert put me here?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it elicited a huff that might have been a laugh from the stranger.

“I guess you could say that. He seemed quite pleased. He even placed you down on the bed gently, rather than just tossing you in.”

Ferdinand stood transfixed. He still felt light, like his body hadn’t quite remembered where all his parts were. “You lie,” he croaked, even as he remembered the look in Hubert’s eyes as he said he had been drugged. The teeths in his kiss and the sinking feeling in Ferdinand’s gut. Was it such a stretch? Was this a secret prison? Had Hubert somehow judged him as a danger to the empire and decided to do his job - his secretive, hidden job that not even Edelgard was fully knowledgeable of? The man shrugged.

“Not my problem if you don’t believe me,” he rasped. “People usually don’t, the first days they are here. One of the girls - Mona, Maggie, Monique or whatever she was called - didn’t listen to me for what felt like weeks.” He huffed again. “Although it has been a long time since they killed her so I could be remembering things wrong.”

A chill went down Ferdinand’s spine. “They? Who are ‘They’?” he asked.

“The Argatheans. Our jailers. They probably want to replace you with an impostor if you’re here, so good luck with that.”

“Replace me?!” Ferdinand didn’t notice he was shouting until the man flinched from his outburst.

“Stop screaming, they’ll come if you do! They don’t like screamers!” the man snarled. The first sign of any real emotion from the stranger.

Ferdinand barely heard him. His ears filled with the sound of his own blood and heart rushing, the damned humming seemingly growing louder as his breath came quicker. His palms felt clammy and his vision swam as he began to pace in a panic. A chorus of “no no no” fell from his lips as coldness seeped into his core.

“This cannot be true, Hubert wouldn’t harm me. He wouldn’t scare me like this,” he mumbled to himself, even as his memories reminded him of the cold, amused glare he had witnessed just before he lost consciousness. A groan came from the other cell.

“The real one probably wouldn’t, unless you are this annoying at all times,” the man said dryly.

“What do you mean the real one?” Ferdinand snapped, his fingers carding through his hair in a nervous manner.

“The one you call ‘Hubert’ isn’t real. He’s a skinwalker. One of their most successful agents,” the man sighed. “And he’s a sadist, so he absolutely would hurt you. He’s probably laughing about all this even now.”

“You--”  _ You lie, _ he had been about to say again. But then the words actually reached him. “Skinwalkers,” he repeated, something clicking into place. “Like Monica and Thomas.”

“Monica! That was her name,” the man exclaimed with a small snap of his fingers, seemingly pleased to have remembered. “And I remember Thomas, poor bastard.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.” As he spoke he looked towards the opposite wall, where the cells could be seen repeating themself. Ferdinand squinted. If he tried really hard he could sort of make out another figure in the cell furthest from them, but it was unmoving and shapeless at this distance.

“If you met their impostors I guess you have some idea of who they are,” the man spoke, his voice once more monotonous and disinterested. Ferdinand nodded, throat thick with something he found hard to swallow.

“And if you know of Monica and Thomas you must have been here for years,” he said flatly. The man nodded and hummed in affirmation.

“I was not even a grown man when I was brought here,” he spoke softly, idly looking at his hands as he did. His fingers were long and thin, the knuckles visible under the skin speaking volumes of how his jailers most likely didn’t think his health was a priority and Ferdinand noted that around his wrist was the same kind of bracelet he had found around his own, “I have probably spent more time in this cell than I have outside it.”

Ferdinand felt his heart clench at the admission. “I am sorry, that is awful,” he offered, receiving only a nod in return.

Silence fell between them for a while. Ferdinand paced in his cell for a while, his mind still tangled and uncertain. Could he trust this stranger? Had Hubert really been replaced like Kronya had replaced Monica and Solon had replaced Thomas? If he had, was he still alive somewhere in a cell just like Ferdinand’s? When would he have been taken, could it have been while he was hunting as Ferdinand set up camp or was it before then? He thought of how they had left Enbarr quietly, with no entourage and with no reported destination, how it was the perfect opportunity to make someone disappear and…

Oh Flames, what about Edelgard?

His heart sped up once again as he thought of his friend and Emperor, and of the threat to her an impostor might pose. But surely Edelgard would notice, she was Hubert’s oldest friend and confidant. No impostor could pull the wool over her eyes. He found himself smiling and sighing in relief, a small laugh even falling from his lips.

“What are you so happy about?” the man asked when he noticed Ferdinand’s newfound joy, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Everything will be alright,” Ferdinand said, and maybe it was partially to himself. “I am a close friend of Emperor Edelgard, if what you say is true then she will surely notice that something is off with Hubert and… and with me, if I am to be replaced with an impostor. She would spare no effort in looking for us.” He turned fully towards the stranger, who looked in his general direction for the first time since Ferdinand woke up. “She will come for me and Hubert. She will get you out of here too, you have my word!”

The man gave him a closer look, revealing a pale and gaunt face behind the unkempt hair. “You know Lady Edelgard?” he asked.

“I do! Forgive me, I should have introduced myself properly,” Ferdinand laughed, his relief making him almost giddy. Remembering his manners, he made a respectful bow towards his fellow prisoner. “I am Ferdinand von Aegir, Prime Minister of Adrestia. Might I ask your name?”

The man regarded him in silence for several moments, only the slightest movement suggesting he was looking him up and down. As the silence stretched, Ferdinand couldn’t help but to falter under his gaze feeling like he was being taken apart and analyzed before he was slowly put back together under a discerning eye. “I’ll be damned,” the man said after a while. “I never thought I would see you again.”

Something in his voice lodged a splinter in Ferdinand’s newfound hope, something familiar he hadn’t been able to make note of with how despondent the man had been. “Have we met?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. This time the man actually laughed. It was a bitter, cold laugh void of any real joy. As his laugh echoed through the cells he shook his head in a way that drove the splinter further in, making Ferdinand’s limbs feel cold and heavy. Slowly the man stood up, his chuckles dying down and morphing into something hard and cynical as he approached the clear wall and came to a stop right in front of Ferdinand. He stood a few inches taller than Ferdinand, back ever so slightly hunched. Green eyes, void of any light in them pinned him in place.

“You might remember me,” the man said, voice dripping with sarcasm and a bitter, toothy smile spreading across his face. “My name is Hubert von Vestra.”


	3. A Shadow in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting somewhere now, slowly but surely...

To try and collect all the thoughts running through Ferdinand’s head would have been a hopeless task, as they all ran rampant through his mind. There was still a part of him that did not believe any of this was real. Any minute now he’d wake up, in the bedroll he rolled out and with Hubert beside him telling him he seemed to have a nightmare as he slept. There was fear in him, born from the slow realization that this was no dream but something very real and very strange and scary. There was worry, for himself, for the prisoner that stood before him, for Edelgard and Cordelia and the Empire.

But all of that was secondary to the one thought that hung over any other concerns and fears he might have.

The man before him was, undoubtedly and certainly, Hubert von Vestra.

The man was thin - more so than the Hubert that Ferdinand had shared his meal with recently, fought their war alongside of - and he was tired but Ferdinand knew those green eyes and those cheekbones and the curl of his hair better than he knew the back of his own hand. The face before him was one he had looked into many times, during arguments, during tea and coffee, during fluttering moments just before they came together for a kiss, but at the same time very, very different.

“It can’t be,” he heard himself whisper. “You couldn’t be…”

The strange and unfamiliar Hubert scoffed, his eyes rolling in an almost childish gesture. “Like I said,” he huffed, “not my problem if you do not believe me.” He stepped back from the glass and returned to his spot on the floor. “If you are anything like the others, you’ll spend a few days denying this is even happening. Take it from me, it’ll be easier for us both if you just accept it. No one is coming for us, least of all Edelgard.” To hear Hubert’s voice speak his Lady’s name without any faith was jarring to Ferdinand’s ears.

Ferdinand shook his head, his mind pulling in all directions yet no thoughts reaching his lips. The way this person, this stranger in the form of Hubert moved was… it was the same mannerisms, same shifts and ways of his calculated movements but… faded. Off. Like he was an unclear famicile of the person Ferdinand had known all this time.

Though if he was telling the truth, it was the other way around.

“How long have you been here?” Ferdinand asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Hubert shrugged, a strange look of dejection that didn’t fit with the idea of Hubert that existed in Ferdinand’s mind.

“Not sure, what year is it?” he asked, no real emotion in his voice.

“1188, two years after the end of the Unification War.” Only after saying it did Ferdinand realize that name might not mean anything to the man in the cell.

“Hmm,” Hubert nodded, not appearing to take the news with any sort of recognizable reaction. “I don’t know why I asked. I was taken when I tried to follow Edelgard after her uncle took her to Faerghus. I don’t really remember what year it was.”

Ferdinand stood still, feeling as if his body was no longer part of him. Edelgard was taken to Faerghus in 1171. Seventeen years. Had the man before him been sitting in this cramped cell for seventeen years? Had the Hubert that stood beside Edelgard’s side as her shadow really been an impostor all those years?

Had he fallen in love with a fake while the real Hubert was stuck here..?

“I remember my father’s men coming for me,” Hubert continued, heedless of the turmoil he had raised within Ferdinand’s heart. “I tried to fight them off, to continue on my mission. I hurt several of them as I recall before they managed to subdue me but…” he grew quiet, something that was close to pain but too jaded to stand next to it flashing across his face. “Then they fell, one by one, as these bastards came down on us. I was tired and weak. And they took me away. Then I was here, and this… this  _ thing _ stood before me and…” he growled, a hidden anger rising to the surface as he spoke. “It may have looked like a human kid but it was some sort of abomination. They did things to me, took things and gave it to  _ him _ and he… his face changed into mine.”

Ferdinand felt his breath coming in short and shallow. Like Kronya. Like Solon. Their faces morphed from something familiar into something strange and in Solon’s case even grotesque. 

“And he has been pretending to be you this whole time,” Ferdinand finished for him, feeling nauseous as the implications swam in his head.

“Ah yes, good memories,” Hubert said, but this time the voice didn’t come from the prisoner but from the door to Ferdinand’s cell.

Ferdinand whirled around, eyes wide as Hubert -  _ a _ Hubert at least - stood on the other side of the window, still dressed in the gear he had worn as they left Enbarr. The contrast between the Hubert that was in the cell and the Hubert that was free was stark now that he could clearly compare the two, the free Hubert looking every inch the handsome gentleman Ferdinand had fallen for with his broad shoulders and healthier-looking face. His eyes were brighter, but as he stood before him Ferdinand felt that the look of them was different than they had been every time Ferdinand had seen them. Like a veil had been lifted, the man outside the cell had abandoned all pretense and his eyes now shone with cold, cruel honesty.

“Hello, Ferdinand. I hope you are settling in nicely,” the impostor said conversationally, as if talking about moving into a new home rather than a prison.

Ferdinand squared his shoulders, his jaw tense as his amber eyes bore into the man. A fury rose within him as he took in the look on the fake’s face, a look of joy and calm anticipation. “Is it true?” he asked, his voice barely holding steady. “You kidnapped Hubert and left him to rot for all these years?”

Not-Hubert laughed at that.

“Of all the things you could have asked, Ferdinand. ‘Have you deceived me?’, ‘Have you tricked Edelgard all this time?’, ‘What will you do to me?’ You could have asked anything and you asked about  _ his _ well being?” the man chuckled. “I even expected you to ask about your precious horse before you asked about him,” he said, smiling in a way that left nothing reaching his eyes.

Ferdinand stood still, his body tense as if he was ready to fight. But this was clearly not a battle he could win through strength, he had to know what kind of enemy he was dealing with. “Fine, I’ll bite,” he breathed. “What are you planning to do to me?”

“Do not worry your pretty little head, you will not stay here long if I have any say in the matter,” Not-Hubert said with a pleased smile and a casual wave of his hand. “You wouldn’t know, but there's a bit of a… power vacuum in our ranks at the moment, thanks in no small part to your Emperor. But things are falling into place, and once they are I will make sure you are moved to much more... accommodating quarters. Ones more suitable to your new role in life.”

A chill went down Ferdinand’s spine, especially as green eyes stared at him with a gaze as sharp and pinning as a blade. “What do you mean?” he asked, this time not succeeding in hiding the waver in his voice.

The impostor smiled wider and with a flick of his wrist he cast a spell.

The manacles around Ferdinand’s wrists instantly grew warm as the magic within activated and sigils became visible upon their surface. Their weight amplified and pulled his hands down to the ground with such force that he fell to his knees with an alarmed shout. Before his eyes the manacles started to glow as they came in contact with the ground, and he found that no matter how hard he pulled he couldn’t move his hands an inch. A click made him look back up at the window, just in time to watch it slide away with nary a sound and unnatural smoothness. Heels clicked ominously against the floor as the impostor stepped through the doorway and knelt before Ferdinand.

“Oh Ferdie,” Not-Hubert purred, “I have been forced to lie and dance to a very specific tune for a long time now. But you? You were never part of the plan. You were just a bystander that got involved, so I never had to lie to you unless it was for the sake of my mission.” A gloved hand came up to pull a lock of ginger hair to Not-Hubert’s lips, his green eyes never leaving Ferdinand’s or even blinking. “I must admit it helped me a lot. I could take out my frustrations on you in the academy, when Edelgard’s plans moved too slowly or too off-course. I could watch your pretty face as you grew from an annoyance to a fine and welcome distraction. And truly, it was very nice to not have to fake my fondness for you. I genuinely enjoyed our time together, it gave me something to look forward to in hard times.”

“But it wasn’t real, was it?!” Ferdinand snapped, face burning with shame and anger as the tapestry of his life unraveled. “You weren't the  _ real _ Hubert! You weren’t even..!” His voice died, his throat feeling thick and clogged as he couldn’t help but to think about how once more he had just been used and deceived. He hadn’t thought it could hurt more than it did when the Flame Emperor’s mask fell away, but seeing Hubert’s face twist into a smile from his obvious turmoil cut deeper than any blade.

“It was all under a false pretense, that much is true. But every compliment, every touch? I meant it, and I am thrilled to know that it doesn’t have to end here.”

The words broke something in Ferdinand. Something that snapped like a thread, something that held him up all this time. He shook his head, mouth forming words but nothing leaving them and his limbs trembling as Not-Hubert cupped one of his cheeks with one hand and leaned forward to place a much too gentle kiss on his other.

“Do not worry, I will treat you well. You will sleep on the finest of silk and dine on delicacies until you forget about the freedom you once had. Captivity isn’t so bad, once you get used to it. Isn’t that right, Vestra?” Not-Hubert laughed as he looked over to where the real Hubert sat in his cell. The other man wasn’t looking, wasn’t making a noise, but his grip as he held his legs close to his chest was tight and a small tremble shook his shoulders. “Take your time to talk to Ferdie while he’s here, will you? Soon you’ll be left alone again, just you and that shell of a man in the corner.”

The crack as Ferdinand brought his skull against Not-Hubert’s head in anger echoed through the cells. The man staggered back just a few inches, his eyes widened for just a moment.

“No.” When Ferdinand spoke it was with a clearness that came from a place beyond turmoil, a place of certainty that made both Huberts turn their faces his way. Not-Hubert gingerly touched the reddened side of his face where a bruise would most likely form. “Do not listen to him, Hubert. I will not let you be alone again. I swear it upon my life,” Ferdinand vowed, a fire in his voice that glowed brighter than any darkness they could throw him in, a will stronger than any restraint and sharper than any blade.

Hubert, the real Hubert, looked at him with something unreadable in his eyes, his lips parting just a little as if he was about to say something. He was interrupted when the other one laughed, stiffly and dryly.

“Bold words, my dear,” he smirked. “I look forward to seeing how long you can keep your spirit up. It is, after all, the last thing I want to break.” With that he stood up and left, the door sliding shut behind him with a whisper.


	4. A Sharp Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand's Very Bad Day continues. Do note that the tag "referenced torture" has changed to "torture". We're learning a little bit more about what Hubert has been through for all these years...

In hindsight, Ferdinand had to admit his little outburst carried more bravado than he might have in him.

Not that his vow was disingenuous, but it soon became apparent to him that maybe this was one of those cases where he needed to curb his optimism and appeal to his more rational side. It might be wise for him to learn more about his situation, not to mention Hubert’s, before he could make any sort of brave statements.

So a short while after Not-Hubert had left and three pale-faced robed mages came to him, he steeled himself for what was to come.

Ferdinand recognized the robes, and he hated that he did. He had seen these outfits not just at Remire village but also among the Imperial soldiers during the war. He had made no secret of his distaste for them, and their presence was a source of many arguments between him and Edelgard at the beginning. She had always looked so pained whenever he brought them up, so troubled yet resolute. As they approached him now, he couldn’t help but to wonder what she had never told him, how much she knew about them.

Through the corner of his eye Ferdinand saw Hubert watch him from his own cell. The man hadn’t said a word since Not-Hubert left, but he hadn’t ignored Ferdinand either. There was a look in his eyes, something not quite bright but less dim than his gaze had been when they spoke earlier. While Ferdinand couldn’t pinpoint what it was but he hoped to chase it, catch it and bring it forward to see it clearly.

He didn’t get much time to think further before the door to his cell slid open with a near-silent hiss. Two of the robed men stepped inside, one holding a spell that crackled with electricity ready in his hand and the other activating the magic in Ferdinand’s manacles with a simple wave. As the magic surged through his bonds Ferdinand felt his wrists and ankles get pulled as if he was a marionette, forcing him to choose between following their path or hurting himself in the name of freedom. Instinctively he struggled, and the first mage let his spell fly. The shock traveled through his body, making him feel burned from the inside before he found his feet steady once more. It hadn’t been a strong spell, just a warning. Just a taste.

Reluctantly, and glaring daggers the whole way, he followed the pull of the bonds out from the cell and towards the table he had seen earlier. Around it were trays with tools and objects he couldn’t even name, all gleaming like the most polished of weapons.

To his dismay, Not-Hubert stood by the table. He wasn’t dressed in robes but he did wear an apron. The image brought Ferdinand’s mind to the appearance of a butcher, a thought that wasn’t helped by the fact that Not-Hubert looked at him like he was a piece of meat.

Though he did note, and took some pride in it, that there was indeed a fresh bruise on the man's face.

Once he reached the table he was stripped of his shirt and made to lie on the surface. With another wave the mages made his manacles snap to the slab, making him bound to it just as if he had been chained. His arms were laid stretched out and his legs straight. Above him was a bright light, so bright it hurt to look at. He turned his head to the side, blinking away the afterimages. His mind conjured images of the day the Professor had decided to teach biology and had provided each student with a dead frog, its legs pinned down and belly exposed. He remembered how he had felt unsettled by how good “Hubert” had been at their assignment.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw those green eyes staring right at him.

“Why are you doing this?” he hissed, trying to block out the sound of the other three moving on the other side and the sound of tools and instruments being prepared for Goddess knows what. “Even if you replaced the real Hubert… you still spent years with us. How could you betray us after everything we went through?” He swallowed. “How could you betray  _ me _ ?”

Not-Hubert’s eyes softened for a moment, or maybe that was just a trick of the light. His hand - gloved, but not with the usual white cotton gloves - reached out to push a lock of Ferdinand’s hair out of his face.

“Like the original Hubert, I too knew my duty since I was a child,” he said eventually, and for a moment Ferdinand felt like he saw the man he had known all this time in his eyes. “I will not say I did not enjoy my mission, but I always knew I was part of something bigger than myself and that my joy was secondary. I sacrificed much. My childhood, my future, my  _ identity _ …” Not-Hubert’s face grew stern and harsh, his eyes piercing Ferdinand like a pike. “Mine is a role I will carry out until death, I have always known this. But you… if I am allowed to keep one thing for myself, it will be you.”

Ferdinand felt himself gasp as Not-Hubert picked up a knife, it’s edge sharp and gleaming. It twirled between his fingers before the hand in his hair tightened and the knife was brought closer, towards his face, towards his eyes…

Ferdinand’s breath caught in his throat as the impostor pulled a lock of ginger hair free and cut it with one swift motion, so close to his face that he could feel the chill of the metal against it.

“But before that,” Not-Hubert smirked, “there’s a few things we need from you.” He placed the lock of hair in a small container, an almost fond look in his eyes.

Ferdinand was not given any time to process the words. A hand gripped his jaw and pulled his face forward, fingers digging into his cheeks to force him to open his mouth. He struggled, briefly, and was rewarded with another shock. As he screamed something forced its way into his mouth, something thin and long that began to poke at the back of his throat even as he started to gag from it. His body was held still as needles and tubes were forced into the skin of his arm, some injecting him with something others drawing blood. Samples were taken from him, from his mouth, from his skin, from the inside of his body.

As the procedure went on Ferdinand tried to remain calm. It wasn’t the pain that was getting to him it was the feeling of helplessness and exposure. He was defenseless under their hands, under their eyes. They took what they wanted, touched where they wished and regarded him with cold, unfeeling eyes making him feel like less of a person. As he was maneuvered to his side the manacles fettered him once more where they wanted him, a hand made soothing motions through his hair once more.

“Breathe, darling. You are doing so well,” Hubert’s voice whispered in his ear, void of all the comfort the man before him had once given. The reminder that he had believed a lie all along chilled him to the core.

Mere seconds after he said it Ferdinand felt something pierce his back. Something hard, sharp and cold forced its way past his skin, through his muscles, to his bones and  _ past _ that. His mouth opened in a silent scream as pain surged from his hip through his entire body while something  _ scraped _ at the inside of his skeleton.

“Breathe,” Not-Hubert reminded him again with a calm smile.

Fire raged through his veins as the poking and prodding and scraping seemed to go on forever. He heard the mages speak behind him, muttering things he couldn’t hear. His eyes were wide as he tried to control his breathing, his body tensing and shaking as he unconsciously fought against his restraints.

“Be still!” someone barked just before thunder stuck him, searing him as it coursed through his limbs. Ferdinand’s head was swimming, his vision blurred and sounds started to meld together around him. He could barely hear what was being said while his skin still tingled from the shock, but he did see Not-Hubert’s face contort in anger.

“Careful you fool!” the man called out, green eyes filled with fury. “If you fry his brain like you did with  _ that _ one I will have your head and feed it to the beasts!”

“But sir..!”

“Quiet! Finish up the procedure,” the imposter barked, his hands once again coming to Ferdinand’s hair to card through his locks with long, soothing strokes. It made Ferdinand feel sick to his stomach, the farce of affection, the gentle hands paired with cold eyes. Worse still was how he himself responded to it, leaning into the touch by habit, seeking solace in the warmth of his hands and the scent of his magic like he had done so many times before. The feeling was still tied to his memories of comfort, of calm, and now he sought those things as eagerly as he had always done.

“Sir, are you sure we should stop for now? There is still much to be done before we have gathered enough material,” one of the mages behind Ferdinand spoke up. Not-Hubert laid his hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder, his thumb making slow circles in an attempt to soothe the tremors that shook the redhead’s body.

“We have time, not to mention that we need to be careful. This is one off, if not  _ the _ most important step in our plan,” he spoke. “Once we have our own agent in place, Fódlan will practically be under our control. We should not rush this.”

Ferdinand fought to keep his eyes open at this point, the pain from the intrusion at his back still present and the magical electricity still crawling under his skin. The room was spinning around him and his mind fought with itself as it both tried to fight the urge to submit to the man he had trusted so completely and the urge to fight everything that was happening to him.

He lost consciousness as another surge of pain laced through him and everything went black.

***

When he woke up he was back in his cell. His body ached in ways both familiar and strange, the tingle of healing magic soothing telling of a small mercy bestowed on him. He sat up from his bed, finding that his clothes were replaced entirely with a simpler outfit much like the one the real Hubert was wearing. His arm was littered in needle marks and a few bandages, and the throbbing pain in his back was only slightly dulled by the healing he had received.

“You’re awake…” Hubert’s voice said from the other cell. Ferdinand didn’t know how to feel about it, how the same voice could be so different. “They went easy on you, you know.”

Ferdinand sighed and swung his legs off the bed. “I gathered as much,” he rasped, his throat aching as he spoke. “What… what were they trying to do?” he asked with just a slight hesitation, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. In the other cell Hubert sat on the floor again, but this time he was watching Ferdinand carefully.

“From what I understand, their disguise uses biological material to make the appearance convincing. They check you from head to toe, looking for anything that might identify you,” Hubert explained, a dejected look on his face. “They do this once in a while, to maintain their glamor.”

“So, you also…”

“Yes. Often.” Hubert sat quiet for a while, his gaze turning to the floor. Ferdinand took the time to check his body according to a routine he had established during the war. Check the skin for minor wounds, rotate the joints to check for flexibility, clench and relax muscles to see if anything feels strange or painful. After a while Hubert spoke up again. “As I’m sure you noticed they punish you if you fight them,” he murmured, “too many shocks will leave you out of it for a while, and even more shocks… well,” he waved his hand towards the row of cells beyond his own, all the way to the catatonic figure at the back. “Too many and there’s no coming back. So if you intend to persevere… let them do what they want.” Hubert’s hand fell to the floor in a hopeless gesture. 

Ferdinand couldn’t believe his ears. “You cannot be telling me to give in!” he exclaimed, making Hubert shrug like he expected nothing else.

“Your choice,” he muttered, “but good behaviour is rewarded. Mind you it took me… a long time before they even gave me paper and charcoal, and even longer before I got my first book,” he nodded to his desk where there was indeed a few papers, bits of charcoal sticks and a few books, “but you are the new _favourite_ so maybe you get something nice sooner.” Hubert sneered the last part, making Ferdinand wince. He wasn’t particularly fond of being “the favourite”. He looked closer at the books, trying to see if he could read what title they held. To his surprise, two of them were advanced textbooks on botany and alchemy and one of them…

“...  _ ‘A Loved Jewel’ _ ?” he asked out loud, not being able to conceal his astonishment. Hubert hummed in response.

“Second in a series, I’m told. The first one was… enjoyable,” he said with something that was almost a smile on his face. “I’m not sure what I did right but for some reason I got the sequel too, he’s not usually generous with his gifts.”

Ferdinand found himself biting his lip, not really sure if this made him happy or sad. The way Hubert spoke made him seem so…hopeless. “...I know the writer,” he tried. “She would be very happy to know you enjoyed it.” After all, Bernadetta’s motivation to actually publish her writing was very much born from a desire to see people happier. Hubert’s eyes snapped up.

“You know ‘Lady V’?” he asked as he turned his gaze back to Ferdinand, and there was a trace of emotion in his voice this time. Ferdinand nodded. He didn’t mention that a certain couple was the inspiration for the books, nor that this was likely the reason the impostor had allowed Hubert this gift. To mock him with the life he didn’t get to have, as it were. 

“She is a dear friend. I’m glad you’ve been able to read her work. It would be… truly terrible if you had nothing from the outside world,” Ferdinand said quietly, his words wavering ever so slightly as he spoke.

“I suppose you could see it that way,” Hubert muttered. He looked back to the floor, a pensive look on his face. “... can I ask you something?” he said after a moment.

“Anything, Hubert,” Ferdinand said, with conviction.

“I have… quite a few questions. Sometimes he tells me stuff when he’s here to… refuel, but I can never be sure he is telling the truth so…” Hubert trailed off. Ferdinand stood and walked over to the wall, sitting down in front of it with his legs crossed.

“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you everything I know if you need me to,” he assured him. And as Hubert moved from his spot to take a seat before him, Ferdinand couldn’t help but to feel like he had made a small victory.


	5. A Gentle Reminder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, we're halfway through! Thanks for sticking with me so far!  
> I'm probably going to need a little break, so the next update might take longer than usual. As fun as it is to write this I need to do something either fluffy or porny at this point!
> 
> But for now, let's have Hubert open up a little!

_ Knock knock knock. _

"Ferdinand. Ferdinand, wake up! I thought of another question!"

With a groan, Ferdinand did as instructed. His eyes squinted against the bright light that never dimmed, leaving him without any knowledge of what time of day it was, how long he had slept and indeed how long he had been here now. His body ached. He guessed it had been at least a few days since he arrived, or at least since he first found himself imprisoned. He had been brought to the table twice more since the first time, so he assumed maybe two days had passed since. Not-Hubert seemed genuinely concerned for his general well-being and Ferdinand thought he would allow him at least some time to recover between each session.

He had spent the time getting the real Hubert to talk to him.

It was a strange experience, telling the man about what he had thought had been his life. Hubert had many questions, ranging from the smaller details –  _ Is Edelgard's hair really white now? _ \- to the bigger questions.

_ Is it true Edelgard is the only surviving Hresvelg heir? How did she come to start a war? How did she win? How is Fódlan recovering? _

The questions really drove home the point that this man had been cut off from the rest of Fódlan for almost two decades. Ferdinand pushed himself up and got off the bed, stifling a yawn as he looked over to where Hubert stood against the glass wall with his hand still poised to knock.

"I'm up," he slurred, feeling just a little dizzy. A dull ache throbbed in his arm and he tried not to think about how he had no idea how many hours ago he had last been subjected to the mages strange procedures. A needle had pierced his skin, and he had watched as tubes filled with his blood for unknown purposes that he frankly didn't wish to learn more about. "I am awake, give me a moment," he added as he stood on slightly unsteady legs and walked over to the wall. A moment of vertigo convinced him to sit down. "Alright, what is your question?" he asked as Hubert crouched down before him.

Green, familiar eyes watched him for a moment, as if he was a puzzle that he couldn't solve. There was an undercurrent of something there, and Ferdinand suspected even Hubert was unsure of what he was feeling. With a shake of his head, Hubert pushed past the moment.

"Was the Church really run by evil dragons?" he asked, face deadpan.

Ferdinand had to stop himself from huffing out a laugh. When put like that, their war seemed a lot more mystical than it had been.

"I... well, I do not know about 'evil', to tell you the truth," he admitted with a small chuckle. Hubert's eyebrows shoot up, clearly not expecting that there might have been some truth to whatever he had been told, urging Ferdinand to continue. "And I do not know about  _ dragons _ , plural. I myself only ever saw one of them in a draconic form, but I... I suspect at least two more existed within the church."

Ferdinand's mouth pulled into a tight line, his mirth at Hubert’s almost childlike question dissipating in a second. It was... difficult, these days, to think of Seteth and Flayn. Seteth had always been strict but fair with him and Flayn...

"... One of them was my friend," he said, his voice more quiet than he intended. As he searched for his words, his gaze fell slightly. He thought of a gentle smile, of Sweet Apple blend tea, how the scent of his maintenance oil still reminded him of her. "I never knew for sure if she was a dragon as well, but she was nowhere near evil. She..." She deserved better, he thought. "She was a kind soul," he settled for. He lifted his gaze again to look at Hubert and…

The look on Hubert's face was not one he had expected.

"That is insane..." the man breathed, his eyes almost shining and his face filled with wonder. "I was certain they were messing with me."

Ferdinand huffed out a small laugh. There were times the real Hubert was almost juvenile. He supposed this was not as strange as it should be, considering how long he had been here. From Hubert's perspective their war was likely something out of a storybook, if you picked the right moments to focus on.

"It was difficult to believe for me too," Ferdinand smiled, hoping it reached his eyes. "Though our reason for fighting them had nothing to do with that. The war would have happened if they were humans as well."

Hubert 'hummed'. "Maybe. Or maybe it wouldn't. The Argatheans wanted the dragons dead for a long time. They wanted the war because their enemies were still alive. Because regular humans might not have been able to do the things they did."

And then there were the times Hubert was so very much not a child, but a man who was stuck in a viper's nest. He had learned much of their strange enemies, of their methods and motivations. It made Ferdinand wonder, was the church the only manipulator of history? Had the path they walked beside Edelgard been laid out by them, with the man wearing Hubert's face as their guide? And if it was, did it matter how certain their steps were if their destination was decided for them?

He shivered and tried to put the thought out of his mind.

"They told me many things over the years," Hubert murmured, breaking Ferdinand out of his thoughts. "I knew some of it were lies, if only because some things they said contradicted other things, but I must admit I thought hidden dragons were among the fabrications."

"What kind of things do they tell you?" Ferdinand asked. He knew enough to know that making a prisoner doubt where the line between fiction and reality went was a common way to demoralize them. He tried not to think about how "Hubert" had been the one to teach him that.

Hubert fidgeted before him, his face falling as he thought about his answer. "They told me Edelgard was dead more than once," he whispered. "and they told me people believed I killed her at least one time. They didn't stick to that lie very long, I'm sure they just wanted to--" his voice faltered, and his face scrunched up as his shoulders stiffened. Ferdinand nodded, he didn’t need to say more. "It's part of the reason why I believed they hadn't been telling the truth about... about my father,” Hubert admitted, a dark cloud coming over his face.

A sympathetic pain laced its way through Ferdinand's heart. When he had told Hubert that his father had died years ago... he hadn't expected the man to be as saddened by the news as he was. The image of Hubert in his mind still held the veneer that Not-Hubert had made, and in that image there was no place for a son's love for his father.

"I am sorry," he tried.

"You got nothing to apologize for," Hubert mumbled and shifted himself so he was leaning against the glass. "He was more of a mentor than he ever was a father but... he was a good teacher. And I suppose... I suppose I thought that if anyone would figure out that I had been replaced, it would be him. I hoped for... well, I hoped he would save me one day, at first. Who else would… who else would even be able to?"

Silence hung over the two, pierced only by that humming noise that never seemed to abate. The corners of Ferdinand's eyes burned, his throat thick and aching as the man before him stared vacantly into nothing. He could imagine Hubert in this cell, young and angry, hoping for his father to come save him. He wondered at what point Hubert stopped hoping.

"Is it true he was killed by... by 'me'?" Hubert asked suddenly, his voice thicker than it had been just a moment ago.

Hesitantly, Ferdinand nodded. "It was never officially stated, of course but... it is a bit of an open secret in the Empire," he said carefully. He had heard plenty of whispers about the Vestra patricide, and people whispering warnings of what the Imperial Spymaster might be capable of if he was able to kill his own father in cold blood. For a moment he wondered if that was what Not-Hubert wanted, or if the death of the late Count Vestra had been a loose end to be tied up. Hubert gave a small nod.

“So he took my name, my identity, my place at Edelgard’s side, my father’s life and even…” Hubert trailed off, his arms resting on his knees and his fingers twitching slightly. His jaw worked back and forth for a bit as Ferdinand waited for him to gather his thoughts. Eventually Hubert coughed and looked up.

“Were you two really lovers?” he asked.

Ferdinand raised an eyebrow at that. He didn’t expect the sudden shift in topic, but he nodded all the same.

“For a few years now, we were,” he sighed. “It was a slow courtship, one we started just before the end of the war. With our responsibilities we were not able devote much time for a more romantic development but…” Ferdinand stopped, throat strangely tight. Back at the palace his office was filled with small gifts and letters, his collection of teas almost filled only with ones he hadn’t bought for himself and every corner of his quarters carrying at least a few memories each of his love.

All empty and hollow now, even if he--  _ when _ he’d be returning to Enbarr.

“I loved him,” he admitted, not daring to look at Hubert. “I loved him so much that when he held me, the memories of killing my old friends did not hurt as much…”

The words came out in a croak, his eyes burning as memories played out in his mind. Thoughts of warm hand cradling his scarred and battered body, of slow strokes chasing away dreams turned to nightmares, of a gloved hand resting on his and rubbing soothing circles over the back of his hand one spring morning when the first rose had bloomed in the garden and the scent of it mingling with the tea he had chosen that day brought back much too fond memories of a friendship lost forever. Comforts, assurances, affections.

All tainted now, fouled by a betrayal that stretched so far back Ferdinand had to wonder who he’d be now if it weren’t for these lies.

Hubert watched him as a few sobs escaped the redhead.

"I want to kill Achilleus one day," he growled after a while. "For everything he took from me."

Ferdinand's eyes widened at the sliver of new information. "Achilleus? Is that his real name?"

"Yeah."

"Oh thank goodness," Ferdinand huffed out in a half-sob and a careful smile gracing his lips. "I was getting tired of calling him 'Not-Hubert' in my head!"

Surprisingly, Hubert barked out a laugh at that. It was brief and sharp, and the moment it came out the man seemed shocked at his own reaction. He covered his mouth with one hand, his eyes slightly wide for a few moments.

"Are you okay?" Ferdinand asked after a while.

"Yes it's..." Hubert began, voice quiet as his hand left his face. "I can't remember the last time I laughed like that, that's all."

Ferdinand couldn’t help but to smile. He wanted to reach out, past the barrier and connect with the other man. He wanted to hold his hand, stroke his hair, re-introduce him to everything else he had not been able to enjoy in all these years. And as he looked at Hubert, he got the distinct feeling Hubert wanted that too.

“You know, this is almost nostalgic,” Hubert said suddenly, a small and crooked smile testing on his lips. “You and me, hidden away from the world in a cramped space with you crying like a child.”

“I’m not crying like a--” Ferdinand started even as he wiped his cheek dry but the moment the words registered he paused. “Wait, what do you…”

Hubert shrugged, a half-smile even reaching his lips. “I just… remembered something. Do you remember? When we were kids, in the palace gardens?”

Ferdinand stilled. Even his breath paused. Oh, the memory was there but it was old and unspoken for so long. Silently he watched Hubert, wishing for him to continue.

“It wasn’t long before… everything else happened, as far as I remember,” Hubert continued, his face scrunching up in concentration for a moment. “But I remember it. At least, I think I do… I’ve been careful not to mention it or write it down, so that they couldn’t use it against me, but it was during the afternoon of a summer day...”

“Yes, the clouds were heavy with rain,” Ferdinand spoke up, hoping the reminder would urge Hubert further. “And it was getting colder, just at the end of summer.”

“Yeah, I remember that much,” Hubert nodded. “You got yelled at by your father, and then you ran off. You were missing for a while and wouldn’t come when called for, so Edelgard ordered me to go look for you, hoping I would have better luck than the adults… when I finally found you you were sitting in the gardener’s shed, crying your eyes out. It had started to rain by then so I was soaked, but you still hugged me and wouldn’t let go. You didn’t want to go back because you were scared your father would punish you for making a scene.”

“And you sat down with me, holding me until I stopped crying,” Ferdinand finished breathlessly, earning another nod from Hubert. It had been a long time ago, and there were times Ferdinand thought he had imagined the whole thing.

Because Hu--  _ Achilleus _ had told him he remembered no such thing, that he remembered nothing from their interactions as children.  _ A long time ago, _ he had said.  _ Another life, you might even say. _

“I remember how warm you were,” Hubert said softly. “You nestled into my side and even with the chill of the rain and the wetness of my clothes I could feel your heat. We must have been sitting there for over an hour before you were ready to go back.”

“I never told anyone the full story,” Ferdinand whispered.

“Neither did I,” Hubert said. “It was something I held on to, that and a few other memories that were just for me.” He looked over at Ferdinand, something dim shining in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “It kept me sane all this time. Kept me reminded of who I used to be. A memory that was  _ mine _ , not  _ his _ to take--” as he spoke Hubert’s words trailed off, his eyes narrowing slightly and eyebrows arching as he looked at Ferdinand’s face. “Ferdinand, are you… did I say something wrong?”

Ferdinand shook his head, even as he felt his eyes well up once more and his cheeks felt wet again. “D-don’t mind me,” he huffed, something tight in his throat and his lips widening in a smile. “I’m just… I am just glad to hear that you remembered that day all this time.”

Hubert sat up and scooted closer to the window, placing his hand up against the glass. As Ferdinand felt sobs begin to wreck his body he too reached up and placed his hand opposite of Hubert’s, feeling the warmth of it through the barrier.

And he wept at the memory, of the reminder that the first time he had felt Hubert’s warmth against himself his young heart had skipped a beat and something had started to grow within it.


	6. A Bold Declaration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! In this chapter Ferdinand learns a few things, and just about none of them are good for him...

"I am Ferdinand von Aegir!"

The voice rang out into the room, loud and boisterous and thoroughly foregin to Ferdinand's ears. Linhardt had once told him that a person can never hear what their voice sounds like to other people, explaining that somehow a person's own voice is heard not through their ears but through their bones. Ferdinand had never admitted to the man's face that he didn't understand what he meant, but listening to this new and strange sound while having no one around him note that it was off made him more inclined to believe Linhardt's explanation.

"Again," came the voice of Achilleus, who stood flanked by two hooded mages, harsh and commanding as if he were a drill sergeant training his troops. "You're not doing it right."

Ferdinand didn't know what to make of his feelings as he looked over to the man Achilleus had addressed. A face he knew too well yet not at all scrunched up in annoyance, a hand came up to toss sunset coloured hair over a shoulder in a frustrated gesture.

"Fine. I am Ferdinand von Aegir!" the man called out once again. Ferdinand felt his eyelid twitch. Was that truly how he sounded to other people? Achilleus made an exasperated face and ran his hand through his hair.

"No, you are not doing it right!" Achilleus barked out again making one of the mages by his side flinch and while he couldn't make out their faces Ferdinand definitely got the feeling the other was rolling their eyes. "You sound like a stuck-up fop!" Achilleus added.

"He is a stuck-up fop!" Ferdinand watched his impostor retort. His skin crawled everytime the impostor spoke, but watching him break character was somehow worse. Was this anything like what Hubert must have been through? This odd sensation of watching someone who looks like you argue that they are acting like you, like a mirror image that had gained its own life? "I've studied his behaviour for months, I'm confident that my performance is flawless!" the impostor added, making Ferdinand wince at the thought that he had been observed for so long before he heard Achilleus scoff.

"Your mannerisms are accurate, your voice has the right cadence but your energy is..." Achilleus began, waving his hand around as if the right word might fall into his open palm. "You're not convincing!" he settled for.

Not-Ferdinand huffed and placed his hand on his hips. " _ 'Convincing' _ , how is that supposed to help me? Am I supposed to moon over you like a whore looking for some quick coin to make it seem right to you?"

"Mind your tongue," Achilleus growled, "or do I have to remind you that we are going to have to play nice once we return to Enbarr."

"Oh believe me, I’m aware. I dread every moment of it!"

"This is bizarre," Ferdinand breathed as the two impostors continued to argue. "They act almost worse than he and I did during the academy." From the other cell Hubert grunted in acknowledgement. He turned to the other man, who was watching the impostors with an unreadable look on his face. "Was this what it was like for you?" Ferdinand asked.

"Not quite," Hubert muttered. "It was... slower, more careful. I think they had more time to get it right, and they didn’t have to fake a relationship on top of it all. They're... I think they were not prepared for,” he made a vague gesture towards the strange scene before them, “this.”

Ferdinand looked back at the two false ministers. Achilleus was now adjusting Not-Ferdinand’s cravat, though Ferdinand couldn’t see how it could be improved. It was flawlessly styled already, just like he himself would have worn it. A thought struck him that maybe Achilleus saw Ferdinand in a light he himself had never seen, grander and greater than he truly was, and he hated that despite his disgust for the man there was still a small ember within him that grew a little warmer at the idea.

“There,” Achilleus said as he finally judged the adjustments good enough, though the look on Not-Ferdinand’s face was thoroughly unimpressed. “You carry his voice, his clothes, his crest, his bearing…” Achilleus started, and Ferdinand felt his breath catch at the mention of his crest. To his own knowledge there were few outside of the Aegir bloodline who carried his crest, the only other person he knew of was Seteth and he was… well, under Edelgard’s orders Ferdinand had made the Cihol crest rarer himself. “A few days from now, all of our hard work will finally pay off. That is, if you can be believable enough by then,” Achilleus finished, dusting imaginary dust off the other impostor’s immaculate clothes.. Not-Ferdinand scoffed.

“After everything I had to go through to get that crest I will be nothing short of perfect, I can promise you that! Don’t worry, you didn’t drain your little toy for nothing!”

“Stop using contractions, Ferdinand doesn’t use contractions unless he’s very upset!”

“I  _ am _ very upset! I’m talking to you!”

Ferdinand watched the two squabble, feeling something tight in his throat. There were so many questions in his head, floating around like debris on the shore after a storm. “He has my crest?” he asked Hubert once he found his voice.

“There’s a type of surgery,” Hubert nodded. “I don’t know what it entails, but I know that it can give someone a crest... if they survive. Those I’ve seen who do are left weakened, bodies frail and hair white from the stress. To do it, they need the blood of a crest-bearer.”

_ My blood, _ Ferdinand thought. He thought of the needles in his arms, of the scratching in his bones. Of a brown-haired girl who returned to them with moonlight locks and an unexplained strength he never managed to surpass, no matter how much he trained.

“Ferdinand,” Hubert said quietly, breaking Ferdinand out of his thoughts. “Why do they need you? Or… your identity, at least? They needed me because I was their key to keeping Edelgard on the path they carved for her but… why are you so important to their goals?”

Ferdinand swallowed. It did nothing to remove the tightness, nothing to stop the sinking feeling in his gut. He hadn’t thought about it yet. His position as the Prime Minister was important enough to make him a valuable target but the way Achilleus spoke made him suspect there was more to it. There was his role not just as Edelgard’s trusted advisor, but as her friend. Through her they could shape the Empire’s future but only as far as…

His breath stilled. Of course. An Emperor, a leader is nothing without the people. The leader might try to shape the people, but it is the citizens that shape the world. And the best way to urge the people into the shape they need to be, to make them think the way they should was…

“The Universal Education Proposal,” Ferdinand breathed. “After our… after our vacation I was supposed to formally introduce my proposal for bringing universal education to the masses. It includes not just funding and logistics but the curriculum as well, if they can control that--!”

Hubert’s eyes widened as Ferdinand’s breaths came shorter. “They can control what the people think,” he finished for him.

“It will lay the foundations for education across the continent!” Ferdinand gasped, his fingers feeling cold as his heart clenched. “The future of the Empire, of all of Fódlan will depend on how the next generations are shaped! And it will be up to us to make sure that they learn what they need to, to shape their growth! Edelgard won’t be Emperor forever, she told me herself she wants to abdicate one day! If she makes ‘us’ the next Emperor’s advisors they will be able to steer the United Empire however they wish!”

Was that their goal? Control? Over Fódlan, or was this another step in their plan? Was Almyra next, or would they start with smaller countries like Brigid? Petra’s country was still under Empire rule despite their newfound equality, if the Empire told them to embrace the new education system Petra would trust “Hubert” and “Ferdinand”’s intentions, and if she for some reason didn’t Ferdinand wasn’t sure the impostors wouldn’t threaten to rescind their promise of equal standing.

“Ferdinand!” someone called, their voice reaching him as if underwater. “Ferdinand, breathe!”

The world came back to him slowly as he tried to take a few deep breaths. When his vision finally focused again he saw Hubert’s worried eyes looking at him from beyond the glass wall, and when he turned his head their false twins looked at him from outside the cell.

Not-Ferdinand gave Achilleus a little shove. “Stop worrying, your little pet is fine!” he said.

Achilleus narrowed his eyes at the other man but said nothing. With one last glance towards Ferdinand, one that seemed so much softer than it left a pang of longing in Ferdinand’s gut for the life he could no longer return to even if he escaped this cell, Achilleus turned back to the other imposter.

“Well, I suppose there’s not much we can do to improve you right now. You will be ready for your ‘return’ to Enbarr, I trust?”

“Yes, yes, I will tell everyone we had a lovely vacation at an undisclosed location. I will tell the Varley girl I missed her and promise the Arnault lady I’ll give her the juicy yet sufficiently vague details about your sexual prowess--” to that he sneered as he spoke while Achilleus rolled his eyes “-- and I will get everything ready in time for the proposal.” A wicked grin sneaked its way onto Not-Ferdinand’s face. “After a few alterations, of course.”

“Good. Do not go overboard,” Achilleus reminded him. “We have worked for Argathea’s revenge for centuries, we can afford a slow win even now. But now, with the Fell Star destroyed and the last of her cursed offspring dead, we can finally fulfill our ancestors goals. We will create the world they envisioned, where we remove the limits of humanity and go beyond.” As he spoke there was a far-away look growing in Achilleus’ eyes, and his voice took on the tone of someone releasing words long silenced. 

“Some will find themselves wanting in this new world where a person is judged by their ability, hungry for a chance to prove themselves and to them we will make our offer to enhance their skills through the Blood Reconstructional procedure. Those who survive will thrive as their newfound merit is rewarded, and in turn they will bring society ever forward. And through that, we will reach the point our ancestors once stood at, before the children of the Fell Star struck them down and forced them into the underground. And once we are there, we will leap. We will be what the Nabatheans never dared to allow. But I’m getting ahead of myself. For now it is best if we focus on the present.” Achilleus stopped himself, his eyes clearer than before. 

“All the pieces are set in their place. We will stand as the two Jewels of the Empire by the Emperor’s side. Through Edelgard and her successors we will control the people, and through the people, the world.”

And at Achilleus’ declaration Ferdinand was keenly aware of only two things; the sinking feeling of despair in his gut and the knowledge that he would not allow them their victory.


End file.
